Childhood

Jumping Those Jiggles Out

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Jim Adams’ challenge this week was to write about a song with Hop/Jump/Leap/Pounce/Spring in the lyrics.  The Wiggles Shake Your Sillies Out is a great hopping and jumping song.  I was first introduced to this song at my eldest daughter’s wedding.  While it might seem an odd piece for a wedding, it seemed totally appropriate to mark the big day for my daughter who is a children’s librarian.

Lyrics:

Let’s shake our sillies out

We’re going to shake, shake, shake our sillies out

Shake, shake, shake our sillies out

Shake, shake, shake our sillies out

Wibble our wobbles away

Well, we’ve shaken our sillies out

How about we nod our naughties out?

We’re going to nod, nod, nod our naughties out

Nod, nod, nod our naughties out

Nod, nod, nod our naughties out

Wibble our wobbles away

Now, can we clap our crazies out?

Let’s all clap

We’re going to clap, clap, clap our crazies out

Clap, clap, clap our crazies out

Clap, clap, clap our crazies out

Wibble our wobbles away

Can you show me how high you can jump?

Let’s all jump

We’re going to jump, jump, jump our jiggles out

Jump, jump, jump our jiggles out

Jump, jump, jump our jiggles out

Wibble our wobbles away

Well, all that jumping made us really tired

Let’s have a stretch and a yawn

We’re going to stretch, yawn, stretch and yawn again

Stretch, yawn, stretch and yawn again

Stretch, yawn, stretch and yawn again

Wibble our wobbles away

We’re going to shake, shake, shake our sillies out

Shake, shake, shake our sillies out

Shake, shake, shake our sillies out

Wibble our wobbles away, hey

Source: Musixmatch

Shake Your Sillies Out lyrics

© Kohaw Music Inc., Wiggly Tunes Pty. Ltd., Homeland Publishing

Padre

 

Memory Lane

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Garden, Swing, Wooden, Old, Fun
Pixabay

I travel down the garden path

The memory lane of my childhood’s making

Trodding o’er the stepping stones

Between Grandma’s hydrangeas

The path seems shorter now

Than when I was six or eight

I remember it having taken longer then

To reach the garden gate

The old swing seems much too small

How could I have ever fit it?

But my heart still fills with joy

As I recollect my youthful visits

Padre

Paint Chip Poetry Free Write: stepping stone, grandma’s hydrangeas

Red Hair Girl

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Person, Human, Girl, Red Head, Smile
Pixabay

Most of kids just referred to her as red hair girl. She was a bit of loner, and her accent and striking locks didn’t help the impression of her otherness. Her real name was Ingrid, and her mother had come to the city on a one year exchange at the university.

Ingrid knew nothing about softball, and she even seemed a little unsure of the “rules” for playing tag. It wasn’t until the second semester that the red headed girl became the “red headed wonder.” Miss Murphy had taken the class out for their physical education lesson, and as was the usual practice, Ingrid was the last one picked when they were making teams.

Mandy Jeffreys, the “captain,” told Ingrid to stay in defence near the goal, where she “wouldn’t cause any trouble.” Then it happened, the ball came towards Ingrid, and everyone on her team shouted at her to “just kick it.” That seemed a silly instruction to Ingrid so she took control of the ball and out-manoeuvring three opponents she raced the length of the field to shoot to the far corner of the net, catching the goalie totally off guard.

It seems they play soccer in Ingrid’s native Germany.

——————-

Padre

Tale Weaver – #316 – 25 February – The Red Hair Girl

The Cupcake Raid

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Bun, Burning, Bake, Cake, Cookie, Baked
utroja0 at Pixabay

A single cupcake left on the tray

As the children are told to “go and play”

Little Andy – for it does reach

A clear violation of “just on each”

The tenacious chap has a plan

To swoop it up blaming it on Gran

Caught in the act he is sent on his way

Glancing back longingly at the tray

Should he now just relent?

That’s not the way his next hour was spent

Padre

Weekend Writing Prompt #192 – Tenacious in 73 words

Paper Umbrella

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Orange, Straw, Umbrella, Ice, Drink
Pixabay

Paper umbrella, more than a toy

A symbol sophisticated and chic

Virgin colada or Shirley Temple sweet

In my glass it was a thing of mystic

How grown-up I would feel

A mocktail held to my lips

Paper umbrella pushed to the side

As I took my exultant sips

Padre

There was just something wonderful about those occasions when my parents would splash out for “big kid” drinks at birthdays or other special occasions.

Like A Tumble Weed

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Ghost Town, Pioneertown, California
Pixabay

The Millers set out with really high expectations for the day. They had been looking forward to seeing some quick-draw gunfights and maybe even some frillies in the cancan at the saloon. But alas times were changing, and the Wild West Park had a sign on the locked gates stating that the town was destined to be yet another Western ghost town, but the owners planned to reopen a new Space Park nearby where Little Green Men and Buck Rogers’ rock-shaped rollercoaster cars would feature.

Yes, the days of the Western were numbered, and all because of a little beeping ball the Russians had shot into space. For now, however, the day  was a disappointing experience, even with ice cream and a coke on the way home.

—

Padre

Sunday Writing Prompt

Buried Treasure

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brown ship on sea during sunset

Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash

When I was little – when I was small

With the simple things – I could have a ball

A lazy lizard,

Turmeric yellow – in the grass

A sea serpent would become

My old leather boot pirate ship

Would sail past giving him all guns

Then in euphoria

A buried treasure I would find:

A penny in mum’s potpourri

That someone left behind

 

Padre

 

Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #30 “This week we are writing about childhood, about When I Was Little. . . .  The words and phrases to consider are turmeric, lazy lizard, potpourri, penny, old leather boots, sea serpent, and euphoria. This week I’d like to see poems using at least three of these words or phrases.”